


Engineers Do It with Precision

by padawanhilary, Telesilla



Series: Long Long Road [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Community: kink_bingo, Dom/sub, Facials, Fucking Machines, Kink, Kink Bingo 2010, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padawanhilary/pseuds/padawanhilary, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney's built a little something for John. Or maybe it's a lot of something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Engineers Do It with Precision

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Kink Bingo 2010 fic (for the fucking machine square) featuring Dr. Sheppard and Dr. McKay from the AU ending of our Long Long Road series.

_Pasadena, CA -- March 1998_

Rodney has checked and double-checked his setup. He's made sure the cables are solidly connected, the machine is stable, the really good lube is ready to hand. He changes out the dildo hurriedly, then stares at it a moment before changing it back. It's a black one, slick and smooth, but it's got a bit of a curve to it. Nothing too hard to handle, but definitely interesting.

Now he comes out of the second bedroom, fingering the blindfold in his pocket. He goes to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup, nonchalant--John's recovered well from his cross-country flight, he's had a good breakfast, couple cups of coffee...this could happen today. It could almost happen right now.

"How're you holding up?" Rodney asks, leaning down to brush a kiss over John's temple before he sits with his cup.

"Pretty good," John says. "Incredibly fucking glad to be home."

He'd been exhausted the night before--for some reason flying commercial was always more tiring than piloting the Lear--and while John would have been happy to blow Rodney, Rodney had just collared him and told him to sleep. Now, however...he sips his coffee and gives Rodney a sly smile. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Rodney takes another sip of his coffee, mainly for show, and then pulls the blindfold out of his pocket. "Matter of fact..." He gets up again and moves around behind John. "Ready for a little something?" It's a lot something, actually--a _huge_ something, since Rodney's been working feverishly on this machine since John left for Florida a month ago. But even Rodney likes a little understatement now and then.

"Always," John says. He tips his head back, letting Rodney put the blindfold on him. It's the serious one, with the pads over his eyes; once it's on, he can't see a thing, not even light. Being blindfolded is always a little weird at first but John's already getting hard.

"Okay. Stand up--there you go." Rodney takes both John's hands in his and leads the way, backing toward the spare room. As much as they screw around together, Rodney's always had a deep respect for John's ability to trust him with a blindfold, and he's not about to fuck that up by running John into a doorway.

"Okay," he says again once they're there. "Stay where you are and just move with me." He takes John's robe off and drops it, then shucks his pajama bottoms. Every once in a while, he has to pass his fingertips over the collar. Just to touch it, remind himself how lucky he is.

Between the blindfold, the sense that he's not in charge here and the fact that Rodney's stripped him naked, John's seriously hard. He goes with it when Rodney walks him slowly across the room to what feels like John's weight bench.

"You want me to lift something?" he jokes. Apparently the answer is no; Rodney just huffs a little breath of laughter and guides John to straddle the bench. Instead of putting John onto his back, however, Rodney presses between John's shoulderblades until John's chest is on the bench.

This part is a bit more work. Rodney tested this part a lot, and he realized as he was situating the machine and the bench, thighs _bruise_ when you leave your legs hanging over the sides of a weight bench like this. Not that he minds a little collateral bruising, but he doesn't exactly want John thinking about his thighs right now.

He drags a shorter table, more of a stepstool, really, from the head end of the weight bench to the back, and shifts and shuffles John until his knees are braced up. Now he's wishing he'd padded it, but there's time for that later. It's smooth and solid, and it leaves John spread out, crouched on the bench, ass wide. He passes his hand over the collar again.

"God," John says breathlessly, his face hot. He's keenly aware of how open he is, how exposed, and it's a little scary because he really _wants_ whatever Rodney's about to do. "This is...Rodney...."

Rodney pauses at the shakiness in John's voice. He crouches down by John's head and pets his shoulder gently. "Stay with me, John," he murmurs, voice tender.

"Yeah, I'm good," John says and he is, now. "Love you."

Giving John a little nuzzle at the temple, Rodney replies, "Love you, too." He trails his hand down John's back and grabs the lube, and then the next few minutes are spent in quiet prep, Rodney taking his time opening John up.

John's a little surprised at the prep; this doesn't really seem like a good set up for fucking. In fact, he'd expected a beating. Maybe, he thinks as he squirms and moans--because, damn, but Rodney's fingers feel good inside him--Rodney's going to put a plug in him.

Later, Rodney's decided they'll play with a headset and ramped-up speed, maybe kidnapping and cock rings and bondage. Right now, though, he's glad John can hear everything. Almost.  
Rodney doesn't spare the lube, and then he's easing the shaft forward on the unit, lining it up. _Just a dildo_, he thinks as he tries to work out what John's figuring, and even when he manually cranks the thing forward to penetrate John's ass, he thinks the illusion of regular sex toy is probably still in place.

_Oh hey, I was right,_ John thinks. Only...it's a dildo instead of a plug, which is weird. Of course, after not coming for the entire month he was gone, anything up his ass would feel fantastic. "Yeah," he sighs, pushing back a little.

"Be still," Rodney says, gripping John's hips and scooting him forward again. He's calculated this down to a very small margin for error; he's factored in John squirming back, and it's something that has to get factored right back out again.

"Sorry," John murmurs. He waits, wondering if it'll be a paddle or a flogger or maybe that strap he made out of a piece of conveyor belt during their first year in Boston. Maybe even Rodney's hand, if John's lucky.

Satisfied, Rodney takes a breath and passes his hand down John's spine. Any delay will have John wondering how it is the dildo is so still and unyielding when Rodney's hands are on him--and then he's starting the machine. It makes a high grinding noise as it runs, something Rodney's tried like hell to work out, but the operation is smooth. It's thrusting forward and back on a hydraulic instead of rolling on a wheel, so that's good, and once it's set to a nice, slow, even speed, deliberately mechanical, Rodney walks past John, takes off the blindfold and settles directly in front of him with the laptop that controls the thing.

"Holy fuck!" John blurts out. The noise is surprising and it's only when the dildo pulls out and starts to push back in that he realizes what's going on. Rodney's hand on the blindfold is enough of a warning for him to squint and then, there's Rodney, with a laptop.

John can't help it, he laughs, but it quickly turns into a groan as the dildo pushes slowly back inside him. "Fuck...did you build this thing?

Eyes lighting on John's above the edge of the laptop screen, Rodney smiles. Smug. As usual, John would say. "Yes, John," he replies. "Yes, I did." He makes some random typing noises in Notepad and then switches windows to the control panel of the fuck machine. The machine speeds up a little bit.

The new speed is good, nice and even, and John resists the urge to thrust back against it. The dildo is close to perfect with a little bit of an angle that nudges against John's prostate with every stroke. And maybe John's a little too much in engineer mode because the idea that he's being fucked by a _machine_ is almost as hot as the fucking itself.

Almost, but not quite, because he's gone a month with nothing more than his fingers up his ass and then only when Rodney told him to, and this firm, steady fuck is just perfect. "God," he moans. "Fuck...Rodney...it's good."

"Come whenever," Rodney grins. He leaves the speed where it is, but he's typing random crap into Notepad to keep John guessing. He'll be ready for John to come again in a little while.

Every once in a while, it strikes John, how he hasn't come without express permission in over ten years. And now, afer a month long drought, he's already close and that thought pushes him even closer. "Really?" he gasps, as Rodney's finger strokes over the collar. "'cause I'm...fuck...gonna...soon."

"Do it." Now it's not a suggestion, it's an order, and Rodney wants to see how John will handle continual fucking after he's come.

_Damn,_ he thinks to himself, _this is...kind of freeing._

John shouts something--maybe Rodney's name or maybe a curse or maybe just noise--and comes in a slick rush all over the bench and his thighs and stomach. Through it all, the machine keeps fucking, nice and easy and.... God, it's not stopping. He's loose now and shuddering through the aftershocks and the machine is still going, still fucking him and isn't Rodney going to turn it off at some point?

No, Rodney isn't. Well, okay, yes, Rodney _is_ going to turn it off at some point, but not now. Not when John is looking freshly-fucked and still a little red-faced and Jesus, yeah, he still has bedroom hair. Rodney can easily picture him with his hands bound at the small of his back, or even bound to his ankles. Rodney can picture him with a gag in his mouth and the ultra-super-good lube in his ass, the fisting lube, while the machine takes him again and again. Rodney can even imagine electric things that overstimulate, even though they haven't gone there yet.  
Rodney hits two keys, turns up the machine.

"Oh God," John moans. It's harder now, faster and already he can feel his dick twitching and trying to get with the program. He should have known that after all the work he put into it, Rodney was hardly going to let one quick orgasm be the end of it.

Rodney can tell it's still good, and he shifts just a little, turning to the side enough that the laptop isn't blocking his view. It's an excellent view; he never gets to just watch. His dick's always involved, and that sort of takes away his ability to appreciate as fully as he'd like to.

It hurts a little, but John wants it. He's starting to understand what's happening here, starting to realize that this machine is just going to keep going, keep shoving that dildo into him, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it. Clenching his fists, he moans and does his best to relax into it.

But eventually, Rodney's dick is reminding him that it _likes_ to be involved, and he turns the machine up another notch, still not fast, but faster, and then he puts the laptop aside. He's still watching John as he undoes his jeans, and then without so much as a word, he's straddling the bench in front of John's face.

John grunts at the new speed; the machine's doing him good and solid now and he can feel each thrust in all the right places. And through he wants to just take it, let the machine fuck him and fuck him and fuck him, as soon as Rodney's is front of him, he stares at Rodney's dick and licks his lips.

John can't move much--or he won't, not wanting to get out of position--but he still strains his neck a little trying to get at Rodney's cock. This is one of those fantasies, one of those things that he's never had and doesn't want in reality but thinks about from time to time. Rodney's more than enough for him, but of course John's wondered what it would be like to be double teamed like this, some guy fucking his ass while Rodney uses his mouth.

"Good boy," Rodney praises. John's got the concept of the low error margin Rodney likes, and even though he's not bound and could pull away, get up, he's not. That may be Rodney's favorite thing ever.

To reward that, he scoots even closer, close enough that John just has to brace up enough to take his cock in. "Go ahead," he murmurs, holding it steady.

It's not easy the way it always is in John's gangbang fantasies; he's distracted enough by the machine that for a moment it's all he can do to just get his mouth around Rodney's dick. He breathes in a couple times and then he's able to move down and suck hard, just the way Rodney likes it.

The performance, Rodney realizes, is sub-par. It's like John can't quite keep track of both the fucking and the sucking at once, so Rodney just rests a hand on the back of John's head in an oblique sort of comforting gesture.

The weight of Rodney's hand is oddly steadying and John pauses again for just a minute. Then he's got the rhythm of the machine set in his head and he's able to move with it and oh fuck, but now the machine is dictating his movements, pushing into him, pushing him down on Rodney's dick. With a low groan of satisfaction, he adjusts his head just a little and then he's _there_ and it's better than two guys, because it's Rodney fucking him twice.

John barely notices his own hard on.

_There._ That's where Rodney wants John, and he tightens his hand in John's hair, groaning happily. He loves it when John finally lets go after the brief struggle to relax into it.

_I could do this for hours,_John thinks. He _wants_ to do it for hours, wants to forget everything but the machine behind him and Rodney in front of him. While he can still think, he makes a mental note to do something really spectacular for Rodney because this is so amazing that he's not quite sure how to thank Rodney for it. And then even that fades away and all that's left is the dildo moving in and out of him and Rodney's cock, thick and heavy and salty in his mouth.

"Not going to be long," Rodney warns, and he already knows how this is going to end. His hand is a fist in John's hair now, and just before he's ready to come, he yanks John off him and jerks off, spattering John's face with come. "Fuck..."

Glad Rodney gave him enough warning, John closes his eyes and leaves his mouth open, and okay fine, this is part of the fantasy too. He licks his lips and then moans as he hangs his head down a little and arches back into the machine just a bit. It just keeps on fucking him.

"God," John mutters. "Rodney this is....fuck...intense..perfect...God."

"Can you come again?" Rodney asks, and he scoops up a strand of come and sucks it off his index finger.

"Fuck," John groans. "Maybe?" He licks his lips and as far down as he can reach on his chin. "Um...if you...." And this is weird; it's been a long time since he's felt a little embarrassed to ask for something.

"If I what?" Rodney asks, straightening up a bit.

"Turn it up," John mumbles. "Please?"

Rodney does up his jeans, settles back into his chair, feet up, and crosses his legs before he takes the laptop up again. He takes his time adjusting the machine, "accidentally" turning it down first. Way down. The dildo glides in and out with excruciating slowness, and Rodney peers over the laptop again. "How's the drag?"

John's on the edge of swearing at Rodney and only the thought that Rodney might turn the machine off keeps him from doing it. "Fine," he gasps out. "The drag is...just fine."

Pushing random keys that do nothing but change the display colors, Rodney lets John sweat for another couple of minutes--and then abruptly cranks the pace. John's getting fucked for real now, no question.

The yell John lets out when the machine suddenly kicks in echos around the small room, but he really couldn't care less. The dildo is slamming into him now, and, oh fuck yeah, this is what he's wanted ever since he realized he was getting fucked by a machine. There's nothing human about it at all--it's regular and steady and fucking _relentless_. It's intimidating and even as he moans and sweats and just takes it, he's just a little afraid.

Rodney watches, wishing he could get hard again this fast. Still, it's pretty damned enjoyable sitting here, pretending to be dispassionate while John takes a fucking from something just a couple permutations shy of a robot. _Fuck,_ he realizes, _that would be the hottest thing ever._ He almost moans aloud.

It hurts just a little now and John bites his lip and clenches his fists. He's close...close...and then he's back _there_ where nothing but the hard, slick pounding of the dildo moving in and out matters. His shoulders slump a little as he settles in on the bench and he's groaning now, loud and utterly unashamed. It's good, perfect even, and it's all he ever wants.

That. That right there, that's why they do this stuff. Rodney soaks in the submission and John's clear descent into headspace, and he rises up into his own because of it. "That's it," he murmurs, voice almost lost in the grinding whine of the machine. "Beautiful."

John's not sure how long he stays there, pinned in place not just by the machine but by his own surrender to it, to Rodney. The pain builds up--in spite of the slickness of the dildo and the lube, each hard, punishing thrust hurts--and so does his need to come. He's been gasping out "please please please," long before he's actually aware that he's saying it, but even when he hears himself, he can't stop.

"Come," Rodney says. This is intense, too much to drag out now; he can hear it in John's voice.

Coming is a rush of painful relief; each pulse and aftershock feels like it's forced out of him by the machine and by the time John's finished, tears are running down his face.

Just when it's too much, just when it's about to go from good pain to agony, the machine pulls back and suddenly...nothing. For a moment, John's actually confused; he's so accustomed to the never-ending rhythm of it that it feels _wrong_ and strange when it's gone. Finally, he lets out a heavy breath and, after one last shudder, he goes still.

When Rodney stands, he's satisfied to note that his observation of the dildo's effects and his counting of the strokes paid off: the machine stopped almost exactly at the furthest point away from John, and the dildo is nearly brushing John's ass, but not quite. Rodney grabs a throw from the chair where he'd sat and drapes it over John, crouching down next to him immediately.

"Good boy," he praises, nuzzling John's temple. "God, I can't even tell you how amazing that was to watch." John still has come on his face and his knees will be aching later, but right now Rodney just has one seriously sated boy, and that's what's important. "Did it live up to the fantasies?" As he talks, he's petting his hand down John's back through the blanket, kissing John's ear, his hair, whatever his mouth lands on.

"Mmmmm...." John murmurs. "Short answer...yes." He spends a moment relaxing into Rodney's hands, enjoying the safe and comforting feeling that goes with knowing that Rodney's got him, that Rodney will take care of him.

"Hey," he's finally able to add. "Please tell me the hot tub's warmed up?"

"You know it," Rodney murmurs. "Let's grab a shower first, okay? Ready to get up for me?"

John is, and Rodney guides him slow and easy into the bathroom. He doesn't spend a lot of time washing John off, just gets him clean quickly. In fact, he doesn't even bother getting towels on; he just carries them in his hand and sets them beside the hot tub as they climb in. Immediately he wraps his arm around John to keep him close. Right now, Rodney needs the contact as much as John does.

The shower helped John begin the slow climb out of headspace, and the hot tub is even better, but what he really needs is Rodney. For a moment he wonders why he's even more clingy than usual after a scene, and then it hits him--the machine was impersonal enough to make reconnecting with Rodney a priority.

"Thank you," he finally says. "For all of it."

Rodney presses a kiss to John's mouth. "You're welcome. I had a lot of fun building it." It's more than that, though, and this is where Rodney's words start to fail him. "That was...it meant a lot to me, John," he tries anyway. "It means a lot when you trust me with such huge things. Fantasies like this one, there's a lot of potential to go wrong. And I just...I love you. I don't want that stuff to go wrong. Ever."

It's always a little weird when Rodney's insecurities come out; John's aware that he's one of the few people who sees Rodney like this and while he wishes Rodney didn't feel this way, there's something intimate about it.

"It was about as far from going wrong as possible," he says, leaning in a little closer. "Oh sure, it was a little scary, but...it's me. You know I like being scared."

The relief is pretty big, and Rodney lets out a soft sigh. Now that he knows it was good, it was just as excellent as he'd hoped it would be, he can relax. Grinning a little, he leans in closer. "So I have to ask you. One engineer to another. Is the design good? I know the hydraulics are great, the smoothest I could find, but that motor...I might need your help to get it quieted down. Or we might need to build an insulated case, if you don't think it'd overheat."

John can't help laughing. "Only you would ask," he says, punching Rodney's shoulder lightly. "The thing is the sound is...it's part of it, I think. If you really want it quieter, I think we can do that, but I liked that it made noise. It's not like I'm gonna forget that a machine is fucking me, but the noise enhances it. If that makes any sense."

It's strange how easy it's become to map out his feelings, to explain why scenes do or don't work for him. It wasn't at first, but after all the years with Rodney, it's almost second nature.

"Okay." Rodney nods, content with that. "We can leave it, then. There's a whole ton of stuff we can do with it, too." He raises the pitch of his voice in a slightly nutty singsong: "I have tentacles...."

"Seriously?" John shakes his head. "Of course you do. But before you tried to break my brain, I was going to offer to build a real bench, like those spanking benches in the magazines."

"That would be great," Rodney admits, "because I really was worried about the configuration of it leaving bruises. I'm afraid your knees are going to be stiff in the morning."

"Yeah and my ass is going to be sore. Big deal, it was totally worth it, okay?"

Rodney laughs quietly, smile crooked. "Okay."

_-end-_


End file.
